


What fits in Mens Pockets

by traveler0145



Category: Doctor Who (2005), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25627567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveler0145/pseuds/traveler0145
Summary: Q-branch always has in stock what an agent may need - Q is not so different.Or: five times Q had exactly what they needed.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	What fits in Mens Pockets

Q-branch always has in stock what an agent may need - Q is not so different. 

Q branch had been all but deserted when James returned from Bangkok that night, leaving him and Q alone at Q’s desk. Bond had just returned lost some equipment and Q had made him sign some document, confirming the loss. Apparently that lost gun had been one gun too many. 

"Do you have a pen?" He asked, looking the desk over. There was Q's laptop, the desk lamp, the mug of earl grey that had been cooling for ages now and the papers themselves, but nothing else. Without looking up Q pulled a single pencil from his pocket. "There you go." 

"Dear Quartermaster, you astound me! Who would have thought you even knew what a pen is. One could think you had gone full digital by now." 

"Please Bond, leave the banter for times when I'm haven't been working for two days straight. Everyone knows that you don't have to fix what isn't broken. Pencils are an essential, I will admit." 

"What are you doing here anyways. Everyone else is at home with their families." 

"...I wonder why. Usually we have a skeleton crew over night...." 

"Q. It’s Christmas." 

"Huh. Merry Christmas Bond." 

“Merry Christmas. You know what could be your gift to me?”

“You’re not getting the Aston.”

"Thats not what I meant. I have a first name, you could use it sometime. If you stop calling my Bond, I'll take you out for dinner."

“Was that supposed to be a compelling argument?”

***

Bond Eve and Q were on a mission. 

It sounded like the start of a terrible joke, but was really just a rather annoying affair. 

Bond was supposed to seduce someone who knew something, and he had, spectacular so. Now the woman was head over heels for him. 

"I told her I wanted to break up but she woudn't listen!" 

"Honestly, I was wondering why that as never happened before." 

"Not helping Moneypenny." 

"Just act like you’re cheating on her. That should do a great deal." murmured Q from behind his laptop. He was working on something and only here in the first place because they had needed a tech expert at the location. Eve was only here to his protection. 

"Great input Q, how do I convince a woman I have know for two days that I'm cheating on her? We aren't even in a relationship!" 

"... You know you could just kiss Eve in front of her of her or wear a shirt with a lipsticks stain. That should work beautifully." 

"Well, I'm not kissing you." Eve stated, voice laced with disgust. 

"What, too old for you?" Bond lifted an eyebrow. 

"Too male." retorted Eve. 

"You know what Moneypenny? That explains so much--." 

"You should be trying to find a lipstick right now 007." 

"Oh right yes. Eve, may I borrow your spare lipstick? I seem to have lost mine." 

"Why would I carry spare lipsticks around James." 

"I don't know. Why shouldn't you." 

Q looked up from his laptop. "What seems to be the problem?" 

"James thinks all women carry around lipsticks all the time." 

"Well. Dont you?" Q asked adjusting his glasses with his spare hand. 

"Of course not. Assuming that I do that is mysogynistic Q." 

"Why would that be mysogenistic? Don't people carry around stuff like that all the time? You know lipsticks, breath mints, that sort of thing?" 

Eve rolled her eyes. "Do you happen to have a breath mint for me then?" 

Q hesitated. "...No." 

"There you go." 

"But I have a peppermint gum. And a lipstick, if you still need it." He fumbled around his parka and pulled out a small black and gold container. A lipstick, Eve realised. James eyed him with interest. 

"Now I want to know why you have a lipstick. Because thats a good one. Mac isn't exactly cheap and that colour isn't for everyone." 

Q sighed and handed the Lipstick to him. "Bond, please refrain from commenting my appearance. I know I look young for my age, you've told me before." 

"Only when you stop calling me Bond. I have a first name you know." 

"I know. I read your file, remember?" 

Eve sighed and pinched thuebridge of her nose. “Fellas, if you'd be so kind. We need to ruin James’ shirt before his girlfriend finds him."

***

Q was pissed. His brother had come back from the dead. 

Bond hadn't even know the Quartermaster had family, let alone a brother who knew how to fake his death and had to use his knowledge. 

Yet here they were, at 2am I a dingy back alley in inner London. 

The street sign read Bakerstreet and the brass lettering on the front for of the building they were about to break into informed pedestrians that this was number 221B. 

Bond wasn't ignorant. They had been in Q branch, when a notification had popped up on one of the monitors. Q had grabbed his parka and James’ arm and off they were. On they way the Quartermaster had explained. 

His brother had come back from the dead, had neglected to inform Q of his continued existence - something he apparently should have done ages ago - and now Bond was standing next to a furiously calm Quartermaster in the back alley of a house Q apparently knew well enough. There was only one way this night could develop. 

The Quartermaster was currently looking up at the darkened windows of the first floor, obviously trying to decide between two, as his eyes flickered back and forth between them. "Alright. Bond, give me a hand will you?" he gestured up at the fire escape that was tugged away to the left side, ladder secured at the corner of the small iron balcony. 

"If I'm helping ou break into your dead brothers flat you should at least start calling me James first." 

"James, a hand please." 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"You need to lift me up so I can reach the ladder." Q pushed his glasses up his nose. If he was lucky the darkness would hide his blush. "Before you say anything, I am aware you could jump high enough to reach the ladder. Sadly that would be extremely noisy, so if you'd be so kind--" 

James folded his hands together and Q put his left foot in them. "On the count of three I'm going to push myself up and you're going to throw me as hard as you can. I'll let the ladder down from above." 

James nodded in confirmation. If breaking and entering was what it took to get Q to stop calling him Bond he would take it. He started to count. "One... two... three." he hoisted Q up, effectively pushing Q to the height of the balcony, where he grabbed onto the steel bars of the railing. 

Q pulled himself up and climbed over it, making almost no noise. Slowly he walked to the far end of the fire escape and carefully let the latter down, until it was within James’ reach. 

Thirty seconds later everything was back in place again, with the slight difference that Q and James were now standing in front of a small, milk glass window with a white painted wooden Frame. There was no lock. 

Q eyes the frame for a second. 

"How exactly did you plan to get in? I would lend you my lock picks but if there is no lock that doesn't exactly help." asked James, voice low. 

"Don’t be silly James. I have my own lockpicks." 

"Why didn't we go in trough the front door then." 

"That’s tasteless. Everyone knows doors are or people with no imagination." He bent down and untied his shoelaces, slipped his shoes off and then handed them to Bond. "Hold this." 

"Q what-" 

Q shushed him and proceeded to pull a small crowbar from one of his parkas’ many pockets. 

"Why-- " James sighed. "Nevermind." 

Q smiled sweetly and patted him on the shoulder. "Now, that’s the right attitude." 

Within two minutes of careful and almost-silent meddling the old frame gave in and Q and James were standing in a small bathroom. 

The tiles were white, the walls olive green and there were two toothbrushes sitting in a glass on the sink next to a small container containing some kind of hair product. Next to ancient looking bathtub that doubled as a shower there was a bootle of shower gel and shampoo. It was sparse. 

Q stepped towards the door, which was only halfway shut. 

James followed him, careful to make no noise, as he was still wearing his shoes. They made their way to the kitchen and living room. 

Q took his shoes back and sat them down near what appeared to be the front door of the small flat. Then he gestured towards the couch. James took the hint and sat down while Q made his way to another door, which was shut completely. He knocked. 

James rolled his eyes and slumped into the couch. After a few seconds there was the dry rustle of fresh sheets being pushed back, then steps. The door opened and a tall man appeared in the doorway. 

Standing there, in the doorframe of a bedroom at 2 am, they looked eerily similar. Q held out his hand and the other shook it.

"Sherlock." 

"Q. What a joy to see you well. What is your SIS agent doing on my couch?" 

***

Everyone was ecstatic. They had just completed an important mission and It was Friday night. Where else could they have ended up but a pub. 

The entirety of Q-branch as well as the double-ohs, Eve and Tanner had cramped into the closest establishment, celebrating the success of the day. 

Q and Eve had taken over an entire table at the very back of the pub. After half an hour Tanner had sat down too and a few minutes later even Bond had joined their small circle. 

Q and Eve were arguing about someone while Bill and James were trying to understand what was going on. 

"Q wants to introduce me to someone, even though he knows I'm not interested in dating right now." 

Bond frowned. "Didn't you say just yesterday you were forever in love with the scary one, what’s her name --" 

Q sighed. " Morgana Pendragon, Duchess of Sussex, drama queen extraordinaire. Yes. But hear me out --" 

"I don’t want to date." 

"Unless its the duchess, yes. But please give her a chance? I'll give you her number and you guys can text, I bet you'd love her." 

"Q, unless you have Morgana Pendragon’s phone number hidden away in that ridiculous parka of yours, I won't text anyone tonight, alright?" 

"...uhm." Q looked uncomfortable. 

Eve stared at him. "You’re kidding." 

Bill raised his eyebrows gaze flickering between the two. "Wait, what’s going on." 

"Q. Please tell me you didn't hack the Buckingham palace’s wifi and stole the phone number of the King’s daughter." Eve asked, suddenly very tense. Bond couldn't tell wether it was from nervousness or excitement. 

Q didn't say anything. 

Bill tapped his shoulder. "Q, you didn't do that right?" 

"I didn't. Why would I do that?" 

Eve shrugged, a bit disappointed. "I know you've done worse things for less." 

"No I mean, why would I hack the wifi." 

James laughed. "Moneypenny, how much exactly has he had to drink? Because I don’t think we should be explaining tech to the quartermaster of MI6." 

Eve eyed Q suspiciously. "Not that much. Q are you feeling alright?" 

"I'm fine. But why would I hack the palace’s wifi?" 

Bill rolled his eyes. "According to Eve that’s how you would get Morgana Pendragon’s number." "

I don't need to hack the wifi for that! Has all this time working with me taught you nothing? --- I have Morgana's number on my mobile. She gave it to me ages ago.” 

The others stared at him in disbelief. 

“Why are you looking at me like that! I have lots of numbers -- Bill, first person that comes to mind, who is it.” 

Tanner, looking not at all convinced, if a little intrigued, thought for a second before blurting out. “The Prime minister.” 

Q rolled his eyes. Then he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and began scrolling trough the contacts. After a few seconds he turned his phone around to show it to the others. The display showed the name ‘A. Holmes’ and below it a Londoner number. 

Eve sucked in a shaky breath. Bill and James turned towards her, clearly confused. Just because the name matched didn’t mean that it was actually the number of the Prime minister of England. She exhaled slowly. “Thats his number. It’s in M’s contact list.” 

“Told you so.” Q huffed. 

Bond seemed exited. “What about normal people! Do you know a John Hamish Watson? He saved my life in Afghanistan, few years back.” 

Q scrolled trough his contacts until he found the right one, then showed it to James. “To be honest, I didn’t know his name was Hamish.” 

“You know him Personally?” 

”Why else would I have his number? He’s married to my brother.” 

Eve took a large gulp of her drink. Bill just muttered something about a small world before emptying his beer. 

James was smiling like a child on Christmas. “What else do you carry around! Do you have a knife? A screwdriver? Ohhh -- a flamethrower! Please tell me you carry around a flamethrower.” 

Q looked pained but pulled out a metal cylinder. “We developed it some time ago. Can reach up to 500°C, depending on handling the reach is approximately 4 to 6 meter. Happy?” 

James nodded vigorously stood, walked around the table and lifted a fumbling Q up from his chair. 

“Wha--” 

James smirked, carrying Q towards the door. Everyone who wasn’t entirely drunk by now stared at them in confusion. “We’re going to test out that flamethrower. Now.” 

“But why do you have to carry me!”

“Because you’re the adult supervision, and because I want to.”

***

Q was in the field. He didn't like it one bit. 

Contrary to what every double-oh seemed to believe he was trained as an agent, which at the time had been a simple issue of security. He was important and powerful. He had to be able to defend himself. 

Now he was sneaking behind Bond trough the special security sector of the biggest gene-manipulation company on the planet. Unofficially. Officially it was the third biggest seed producer on the market. 

Q was slowly getting tired of the whole sneaking thing. Due to a week of planning, mostly filled with programming and some hacking he was now able to remote control the cameras in the building via his phone. 

He had originally wanted to bring his laptop but together with the special equipment but there had been no space left in his bag what so ever. 

He pressed a sequence of keys on his phone screen and the cameras in the next hallway over went dark. He gave Bond the signal for go and they went in, enabling the cameras behind them as they went. 

Q searched the signs on the doors for the right one. If his calculations were correct it would be in the optimal position, laying almost at the centre of the building right below the high risk laboratories. Finally he spotted the right door and pointed, so Bond knew where they were heading. Q walked up to the door - non descriptive, generic, off-white - and opened to it and stepped inside. 

The automated lights went on. 

Bond, who was directly behind him stared. "Q are you sure --" 

They were in the loos. 

"Yes I'm sure. now help me." Q had sat down his messenger bag and was fumbling with the zipper of his black, MI6 issued tactical gear. 

"My, my Quartermaster, how am I supposed to say no to that?" 

Q flushed. "Not with my clothes 007, with the sink! We're going to steal it!" 

"First of alI, am so coming back to that first thing later. Secondly: What?" 

"The sink on the far left. Deinstall it." 

"I don't have any plumbing gear, Q. I have a Walther and a com. And the com is pretty worthless when you're not on the other side." 

Q’s complexion grew even darker at the flattery. "I have plumbing gear." He had finally managed to take of his jacket. He laid it out on the floor and opened a zipper at the top inner lining. 

Inside there were two wrenches - apparently exactly the two sizes they needed - as well some other gear couldn't have named to save his life. They were all neatly held in place by rubber bands. Q only grabbed the jacket by the sleeves and dragged it to the very end of the room. 

Q got to work, James assisting where he could, and within seven minutes the sink was laying on the floor. "What now? I'm assuming were not just here to steal this beautiful sink." 

"Well we can't just leave it, can we?" 

“We can't just take it either. They’ll notice it’s gone by tomorrow morning. Which is in three hours." 

Q rolled his eyes and scoffed. He picked up his bag and opened the latch. There was sink inside. It looked exactly like the one they had just deinstalled. “It’s explosive.” Q said matter-of-factly, as though that would explain anything. 

James nodded offhandedly. “You know what? I’m not even surprised.”

“Good. We have 2.75 hours left before the first shift arrives, so if you’d be so kind?” 

“Of course.” James sighed. 

***

James was sitting in Q branch. This was not unusual. He often hung around during off time to spend time with the minions, or so he claimed. 

In reality he just shadowed Q. 

It was an average Thursday night in one of the top secret services on the planet and James was tired. 

Not hallucinatory tired though. He was pretty sure the blue police box had actually just appeared out of thin air. 

He shrugged. This as Q branch. Q had everything under control. 

"Q. A blue box just appeared out of nowhere. Should I be worried or get the kettle going?" 

Q, who had just stowed away some paperwork in his desks drawers, appeared in the doorway. "Neither. He’s just here to pick something up." 

"Of course love." 

Q blushed and walked up the box instead. He knocked twice and waited. James stood and walked over. 

"Q, love, please tell me there isn't someone inside the box." 

Q rolled his eyes. "Only if you stop calling me love" 

"Only if you agree to go get dinner with me." 

The door opened. An old man with a shock of white hair stepped out. Behind him was a girl who appeared to be in her early twenties. 

"Doctor please tell me we're not-" 

"We're not." 

"Then where-" 

"MI6." 

Her eyes went wide but she only uttered a quiet ‘Alright’ and closed the blue door behind her.

The white haired man who had just appeared out of a box which had appeared out of thin air extended his hand towards Q. 

Q took it. "Nice to see you again." He said conversationally. "Bond. Meet the Doctor. Doctor, meet Bond." 

The doctor nodded at James. 

James nodded at the doctor. 

The doctor scoffed. "I thought you Englisch were supposed to be polite." His accent was thick and clearly Scottish. 

James smiled thinly. It was his I-am-amused-but-i-don’t-show-it smile. "I'm Scottish." He let some of his accent shine through. 

Q turned to the girl. She wore a leather jacket and jeans and her coily hair was braided down the back of her head. "I'm Bill. I’m just tagging along." 

James put his head to one side. "Nice to meet you Bill. I'm Bond. James Bond." 

Q Rolled his eyes. 

"And this--" James continued, "--is the lovely Q. He won't go on a date with me, although he clearly want to, so I call him love until he agrees." Bill nodded and turned to the doctor. "Why are we here again?" 

"Do I need an excuse to visit some friend and-" he looked Bond over, "-friends of friends?" 

"Yes. We were in the middle of something, remember? The puddle? My trapped girlfriend?" 

The Doctor rubbed the palms of his hands together. "Ah yesss. Q if you could?” 

Q handed him a small pen-like device. Except it wasn't a pen. 

"Thanks. You'll get it back in one minute. Well one minute for you. We'll be off!" He turned around and strutted back into the box. 

Bill followed him. 

The doors closed and the box disappeared. 

"Love, that was the single most weirdest thing that has ever happened to me and I'm a literal spy."

Q sighed. "I'll explain over dinner."


End file.
